Tolkien Fan Fiction
| 12 |
| Heat |
| From the wharf, Anduin gleams like crystal in sun’s long light. The river runs slow; the air is heavy with its own stillness. From Rath Tirin to The Bottle, to Violin Street, guardsmen make rounds and arrests. The afternoon heat’s a dizzying blood-letter: “Piss-locked, caste-crossed, monkey-holed – ” “Sheet-wearing, dirt-faced, fork-tongued –” “Feckless, cock-strutting, tall-leg, Elf-spit – ” “– Longneck filth-eating –" “ – sweetstink, horseshit-selling – ” “ – Ship rat, cloud-headed, Sunset sea-swillers– ” “ – swine-porking defilers of–” “ – cookied sons of whores!” “Moon-brained bastards,” Haldarion mutters, as they pass a knot of Northmen. “Choke them with their own pendants!” Ambarin just sighs. |
Prompt: bottle, wharf, violin, moon, monkey, fork, hole, lock, sheet, pendant, crystal, cookie, letter A/N: All hail, Spike Lee's "Do The Right Thing", and the power of the hyphen. |